


Cliche Fics

by Merfilly



Category: DCU - Comicverse, DCU Animated
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Animal Transformation, Bodyswap, Brainwashing, Crossdressing, De-Aged, Elevatorstuck, Evil Twins, Genderbending, Mpreg, Multi, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-15
Updated: 2007-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fourteen of the more common tropes, as presented via Dinah and Slade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cliche Fics

**Author's Note:**

> Various continuities, with much canon divergence.

_Cliche One: Huddle for warmth/One blanket_

Taking on insurgent forces that were not supposed to have been that far above the snow line had not been the first order of Canary's day. It was supposed to have been a simple drop, recover the gear that had been lost by the exploring party, investigate the anomaly from a distance, and get down to a ranger cabin by dark.

The band of rebels had pushed her who knew how far off the grid she had memorized, caused her to lose contact with Oracle when she fell off a small embankment to get away, and generally ruined her day. She would even, barely, admit that they had almost gotten the better of her.

Then _he_ had been in among them, and she had rallied enough to reach him, falling into the uncanny fighting pattern he wove just like she was working with Barry all over again. His enhanced reflexes, superior senses, and sheer genius for a fight left her to fill the small holes, working in and around his style with finesse.

If the reinforcements had not shown right then, she had no doubt that between her cry and his guns, they would have had the day. The fight had been intense enough that they had barely had a chance to greet each other with the traditional 'Sister' and 'Wilson'. When the other troops arrived, his hand went to her hip, a sharp tug and then slap indicating he expected her to move. She obeyed those terse signals, clearing a path for retreat with a controlled Cry, thanking fate they were not in the avalanche zones.

He bought them the time to get a good head start, and was on her heels in moments.

"Why whenever I find a mission that goes astray, you're there?" he managed, his breathing nowhere near as ragged as hers.

"Guess…you just can't…get enough of me," she managed, before skidding to an abrupt halt. Even he could not quite stop fast enough, sliding into her as he saw the unbroken stretch of white was actually a sheer drop of twenty-five feet, over a river that was already showing ice floes. His arm tightened reflexively on her waist to keep from knocking her off the cliff, but a glance back told them they were going to have to navigate this fast.

"Sister, hope you can swim in ice," he said, slinging his rifle and tightening his hold on her moments before leaping for the center of the water. Her squeak and curses were lost as they plunged into the frigid water, his hand managing to stay on her the whole way. When they both surfaced, sucking in air, he locked his hand on her wrist, to keep them together in the current, and was pleased when she did the same thing.

"I am kicking your butt for that; I know how to jump!" she shouted over the sound of the river. She did know enough about cold survival to understand they were going to be dependent on each other to get out of this alive.

"Save the attempted sparring for a warmer clime," he told her, his voice sporting toward her. He started using a one-arm stroke to work with the current, to keep his muscles burning heat, and she quickly did the same with her opposite arm. It was not truly effective for motion, but it kept the blood flowing in the icy waters.

"That's about two miles," she finally chattered at him, her lips all but blue. He nodded, and exerted himself to pull them to the bank, on the same side as where they had jumped.

"They'll expect us to cross." He realized, with amusement, she had actually followed the logic. "We need to get somewhere out of the wind, somewhere to dry." His eye swept over her ears, her throat. "And you are out of contact with that partner of yours, again."

"Always the luck you bring me, Wilson," she said sweetly, getting a smirking chuckle from him. They did wind up crossing paths quite frequently, as he took high dollar contracts for big business that ran counter to Oracle's own missives.

"The anomaly?" he asked, trying to keep her talking. Both of their armors seemed to have stopped them from getting soaked, but the dampness had leaked in, and she was very small, showing the signs of the elements all that much faster.

"And the gear used by the explorers who first scouted it," she admitted. "Same?"

"Just the anomaly itself. Get close, plant sensors, get out." 

"Someone forgot to mention troop movements to me," she said light-heartedly. 

"Always going in without the full story, Sister." He looked amused at her. "If it helps, I was expecting a smaller, less organized group."

"Not by much…look!" She pointed, a moment after he had seen the small entrance along the cliff wall. He nodded, and they moved toward it. He made her wait at the entrance, taking a long moment to just listen before he went inside. It was a shallow cut out in the wall, but there was room for them both and no other occupants of the bestial variety inside. 

"Get in, Sister. Can't risk a fire, but I should be able to drop some of that snow down, to conceal the entrance," he told her.

"Alright, Slade." She was worn completely out, the cold sapping most of her strength as she stumbled inside, going to the far side of the shallow shelter. She slid down the wall, and closed her eyes, just for a minute…

The mercenary came back inside, after disguising the entrance by a controlled snow break from above, to see the small woman he did admire for her tenacity slipping into the clutches of hypothermia. A low call of her name garnered no results, so he went closer, crouching in front of her.

"Dinah," he called, this time gripping her shoulder. It roused her, enough that her eyes opened, and she smiled distantly. "Dinah, you need the wet stuff off. I'll help you, but you won't make the night if you don't get dry."

"Gotcha, Slade." She started pushing at the sodden gloves on her hands, while he worked the waterlogged boots off. "Whole suit's got damp spots," she whispered.

"Nothing I haven't seen before, Sister." He teased her with words and tone, smiling when she slapped at his hand moving to the seam of her suit.

"Share the experience, then, Wilson, because that armor of yours is just as wet." She fought to control the shaking in her hands, already feeling the itchy burn in them, as she worked the armor off, leaving her in the insulating but barely concealing body suit under it. Hers only went to mid bicep and mid thigh, unlike his that ran to wrist and ankle.

"Yours dry?" he asked her, coming over to run a hand along the material, in case she could not truly feel it. She sighed, looking up at him with the irritation of a petulant child almost.

"Yes, it is." She rummaged for the small pack she had been wearing at the back of her costume, relieved to find it sealed and dry. "And…I have just what we need." She opened it to show a space-age survival kit, with a thermo-insulated blanket and travel rations. He smiled, and produced a small canteen.

"We'll dry out here, and strike out at first light," he said. He took it for granted they would work together; he would fulfill his contract, and she would do what she needed to without either of them having to thwart the other for a change.

She unfolded the blanket, moved into his space in a matter of fact manner, and did not protest when he settled her in his arms, letting her pin the blanket around them. He leaned his head back on the wall of their shelter, as she settled the best she could, pressed entirely too close to the chest of a man who had, at one point, tried to kill her.

She did drift off, already having felt too much of the effect of the icy cold to resist sleep. He allowed himself the lightest doze, keeping her from moving too much by keeping his hands at the small of her back and around her ribs.

When the darkest part of the night was on them, he roused at her soft whimper. The man murmured a very low reassurance to her, before shifting a hand up to pet her hair. He wasn't sure if it was the touch or the voice, but she nuzzled into him before she settled. He remained awake a very long time after that, entirely too aware of the lapful of beautiful woman. If she had ever suspected just how intrigued she made him, he knew she never would have consented to this, even for survival.

It was that insane stubbornness that made him thankful for insurgencies and crossed paths, as he took the small, guilty pleasure their plight allowed him. Come the morning, it would be back to trading insults and watching each other's backs out of necessity.

That suited him just as well as this dark embrace for warmth.

* * *

_Cliche Two: Revert to childhood_

When the case promised to bring her into conflict with Deathstroke the Terminator, Zatanna had no choice but to ask for help. Black Canary, despite all the bad history, was the one to arrive, looking so very deadly in her long coat and steely visage. Zee was pretty sure she should have brought at least one of the Trinity, but figured she was lucky any of them had come.

It was two nights later they finally tangled with the assassin, and Zatanna was taken completely aback by the fury they met each other with. If she had to place a guess on it, seeing them for the first time in this death dance they used, she would have sworn there was an intimate betrayal in their past.

Maybe it was the fact Zee knew Deathstroke was a stone cold killer. Or maybe it was the fear she had for Dinah becoming one right there in front of her, but Zee knew she had to end this before serious blood spilled.

"Ekam mih ton a taerht!" she hurled at the assassin while his focus was purely on Black Canary. There was a loud popping noise, a bit of haze and shimmer, and then the sword hit the floor.

A second later, there was a very confused voice piping up. "Ma'am?"

Both women looked, to see a ten-year-old boy there, barely holding up some of the armor to preserve his modesty. The Canary looked at Zee, and then back, before sighing softly.

"I knew you wouldn't need me," Dinah grumped, even as she walked over to help the boy out.

* * *

_Cliche Three: Turned into an animal_

Slade was lining up his shot, had the drug dealer in his sights and ready to earn a small ten 'k' for new gear. 

It was the wrong moment to hear a loud 'mrow' practically at his elbow. He eased off the trigger against his involuntary tensing from a living creature getting that close without his knowledge, and turned to see the nuisance.

"You should not have come up here, little thing," he said, reaching out to run a hand over the inquisitive cat's head, reminded sharply of Beast Boy. The tiny black creature with piercing blue eyes head-bumped the hand, stretching up into the caress and showing off a collar of black velvet, dangling a single gold bird. It caught the assassin's eye, but noise in the plaza drew him back to his work. "Be quiet and still, just a moment, kitten. This man made the mistake of selling to the child of a Cabinet member, and earned a price on his head. It's small, but the man buying the contract is an old team mate, from my more legal days."

The cat had tensed to spring when Slade first turned back to the window, but his words made the small creature pause, long enough for the shot. As the plaza was erupting in chaos, Slade quickly broke his gun down and put it away, taking the single piece of brass and pocketing it. He stood to go, noting that unique collar again. The cat was looking at him quite expectantly, with almost human intelligence behind those blue eyes.

"Come." His command made the cat…hardly more than a half grown kitten in size, leap to his shoulder and secure her claws into the bandolier and armor. "Kitten, there's more to you than just a simple feline, wearing that particular symbol." He made his exit, and pulled his phone out on the way. He punched a number in from memory, and waited for it to be picked up, curious at the strange situation. When no one answered, his eye narrowed as he turned his head just enough to look at the cat. "Little Bird?" At that affectionate nickname, the cat pushed her head forward, stroking along his jaw. "Well, this is an interesting turn of events, isn't it?"

The cat merely purred and settled in, placing complete trust in his ability to get this fixed.

* * *

_Cliche Four: Gender-changed_

World shattering events were nothing new to Black Canary. After all, she had survived the skies turning red, had helped in the Crisis that shook the multiverse and rewrote it into one universe.

She had survived the megalomania of her one time friend trying to bring it back.

Neither of those events was enough to truly prepare her for the cataclysm that broke on the battlefield between the Titans, the League, and an assortment of villains calling themselves the Legion of Doom. She had been thankful for the help of the Titans, as several members in this Legion were their rogues, but now…

All around her, about every fourth fighter on the field was unconscious, stricken by some form of energy explosion that had released between a bolt from Star Sapphire and Green Lantern's energy. Her own opponent, the dreaded Deathstroke the Terminator, had been one to fall, and she cautiously approached, heart in her throat.

He had been fighting her, their blows a careful courtship to betray nothing of their lives outside their masks, to keep his cover. This Legion had been a threat to his way of life as much as it had been to the heroes. He had been unwilling to let her risk fighting one of the heavies, and she had not been disinclined to let him tie her down, seeing the fight going well for her side.

"Oh my god," she whispered, seeing the man she had been with for three years sprawled out, in armor now far too big for a more slender frame. Long white hair obscured part of his face, but Dinah would swear that she was looking at his daughter, full-grown, instead of the man she knew he had to be. 

"Nnngghh," came a too female grunt from that person, and Dinah had to cover her mouth. She was shocked…but something about watching Slade sit up, look down at his (her?!) chest, in miss-sized armor was too amusing not to laugh.

"Oh Wilson," she snickered, as he…she, glared balefully at her. All around them the chaos was full fledged as combat died away and friends tried to help each other deal with this strange happening. Most of the enemies were teleporting out, if they were not being subdued. 

Martian Manhunter approached them, and Dinah waved him off. "It's okay, J'onn…I'm vouching for this one, and I'll tell you why later." The telepath accepted that; he knew Black Canary often turned up in Deathstroke's company on missions for Oracle.

"Sister, stop laughing and get me somewhere to sort this out," Slade growled, provoking more laughter and a hand down to help the new woman up.

`~`~`~`~`

The news on a counter was not favorable, but the combined Sentinels of Magic were working on it. While they did, the newly gender swapped heroes and villains were being treated with kid gloves by their friends and captors alike, as the situation was stressful enough for their minds to process. As Dr. Fate put it, nothing had affected the base personalities to adjust them to their new genders, and neither man nor woman was meant to be in the others body so literally.

Even Slade was barely coping, as Dinah was learning. She had taken him home, after clearing through both J'onn and Bruce that yes, he had been her contact that had tipped them off.

Her clothes were too small for the mercenary woman, but the ones Slade had left did not fit her either. Dinah finally found a pair of Roy's training clothes, which did fit, even if the source annoyed Slade to no end. Apparently, the rush of female hormones was more than enough to break Slade's usual control on his emotions, because Dinah was finding _her_ to be very bitchy in the manner that Dinah knew all too well.

"You need to get laid," Dinah finally said, with both exasperation and annoyance.

"Volunteering, sister?"

"You know, Dick's still a guy…and I bet he'd flip," she retorted, well aware of the dangerous edge to that mentor/student bond.

Slade rolled her eye at Dinah, then got a very sensuous look to her face as she approached her lover of the past three years.

"It's still me, inside this form, Little Bird. I'm sure I can still make you scream," Slade purred, and the effect of her using the seductive tones in that voice did have an effect, no matter the curves where hard angles should be.

When Slade reached out, and closed a hand around Dinah's wrist, the blonde's throat went dry, and it was all she could do, not to stumble, as Slade's will and sheer presence won over the strangeness of form.

* * *

_Cliche Five: Sex-pollen_

Normally, Slade paid only minimal attention to the lunatics of Arkham. But then, normally, they stayed in Gotham, a city he had left pretty much alone since the debacle that had been Vigilante.

It deserved what it got, letting a rich kid with issues dress up as a bat and tend its insanity.

This time, one of the lunatics had found her way to New York. Worse, she had done so while he was waiting for his lover to finish dropping off Lian to Harper and Grayson, from a long vacation. His plans to finally have her for a few hours were seriously hampered by the likelihood of her getting involved in rounding up the villainess behind the hostage situation in Central park.

He made his way to the Park after suiting up, taking the precaution of filters for his nose and mouth; he had heard Poison Ivy liked to use strange pollen in her terrorism. As he went, he listened in on police bands, and cursed as it was confirmed that three heroes were on site. He wondered whom the trio had left Lian with just briefly, but Harper had to have contingency plans.

He did not figure he would be needed, but he was not a man for taking chances. Dinah Lance and Dick Grayson had a strong pull on him, one as a friend and lover, the other as his student of sorts. Though he could not get them to see how impractical their methods were, he still had to admit to a fondness for them remaining healthy.

He arrived just as a very unconscious Poison Ivy was being loaded in a Hazmat van. Along the way the various hostages had been released from their living wicker cages by sharp arrows, but of the three heroes, he saw nothing. That surprised him; Black Canary at least usually handled the police personally, and Arsenal was prone to it as well.

He began scanning the outer edges, expecting to see Nightwing discreetly observing to make sure things happened properly. When he did not find the man, he eluded the police and headed into the roped off crime scene area. The further in he got, the more worried he became, seeing small animals in the midst of mad mating frenzies. The cold feeling in his stomach grew as he approached the small creek, and heard unmistakable sounds coming from under its bridge.

The mercenary could have abandoned all pretenses of stealth and the three heroes never would have heard him, he was convinced. The image before him was one he never would have wished to see, and he was pretty sure his lover would not want to remember it.

She was trapped between the two men, as their fingers alternated between stroking her very bare skin where her costume left her so revealed, the top part of her bodice pushed down, and trying to get their own costumes open. The redhead was standing behind her, moaning as she pressed back into his body, writhing as if already in the grips of a strong climax, while the brunette was leaning down to taste those bared breasts, white teeth flashing sharply in the filtered light.

Slade could neither keep his growl back nor stop from flashing forward. A strong pull on Dinah was followed by a small scuffle, as the intoxicated men tried to keep her from Slade. They were partly trying to protect her from the new villain, and partly trying to keep their sex-partner.

He did not want to hurt Dick, and Dinah would have things to say if he hurt Harper too much. It remained that he could not let his woman be molested by the two, especially when it would lead to severe issues on her part, as Roy was…complicated…in her heart.

A solution did present itself when he saw that every time they managed to touch her or each other, it led to more caressing and less fighting him. Dinah seemed just as content to press to his solid body, rubbing along the armor, so Slade maneuvered until he could trip one young man on top of the other. The full body contact sent the lovers off deeper into the intoxicated need to touch and be touched, letting Slade jerk Dinah very close and make an exit.

Now he just had to get her somewhere a little more discreet to burn the effects out of her system…and somehow, that did not bother him in the least.

* * *

_Cliche Six: M-preg_

Dinah wanted to pace. She needed to be up and moving, but she could not abandon the chair at the bedside of her lover. She watched him as he tried to remain calm, waiting for J'onn to arrive. Almost on instinct, they both moved their linked hands to his stomach, swollen and hard with the life they had created.

"Our daughter is impatient," Dinah murmured. "Not that you won't be glad to have her out here…"

"I'd do it all over again, Dinah," he assured her.

`~`~`~`~`

'It' was the beginning of the strangest pregnancy, and the full-fledged reformation of her lover. 

Dinah had been back with him for just a few weeks, following the exorcism of the corrupted Azarath spirits, when they discovered her hasty form of trying to help him over what he had done had led to her becoming pregnant, with his child.

She had been excited, happy beyond belief. And Slade, looking over a past full of mistakes, and wrong paths had chosen to give up the hunting, to give up the paychecks in favor of just being a father.

Three weeks later, the doctor they found had told them Dinah's body would never survive bearing the child anywhere near term.

Slade had held his lover tight that night, listening to her near silent sobs. She had stubbornly refused to even consider the abortion the doctor was urging, not until they had talked, not until all options had been exhausted. He knew he needed to urge her to do it soon, before it was too late and he risked losing both mother and child.

It was tearing him apart to consider causing her that much grief, to see her trying to come to terms with the idea she could not have this baby. And, once she had fallen asleep in his arms, he remained awake well into the night, wishing with all his heart that just once, that something he had done would not bring so much pain to his loved ones.

The next morning, to the complete confusion of them both, he was the one with the symptoms of pregnancy, and she had none. Exhaustive tests proved the symptoms were correct; and all Dr. Fate would say was that some magical entity must have chosen to intervene.

`~`~`~`~`

It took J'onn most of an hour, but eventually he handed a perfectly formed little girl to Slade, and watched with amusement as the couple cooed over their newborn. He quietly withdrew, knowing that the hero community would be set on its ear for years to come, for the way their Canary had captured Slade so fully.

* * *

_Cliche Seven: Crossdressing_

The boy was damn good, and would get better, Slade thought, warding off a vicious kick. He admired the boy's flexibility, watching the way the jeans gave no resistance to the strong legs. The boy's black hair was quite short under the news cap, and the features still smooth, reflecting a youthfulness that barely showed in the skill.

Slade shifted sideways, thinking to take the boy down, hands reaching for the far too large, quilted flannel shirt, but the boy moved with a nervous speed that Slade could only admire. What he would give to have a student half as talented. He could almost forgive the boy for interfering with his contract.

"Stand down!" The booming voice came from a green megaphone, as the members of the Justice Society started coming into Slade's awareness. It was time to beat a retreat, write this attempt off for another time. He was not prepared to take on the JSA today.

`~`~`~`~`

"Your ma would have a conniption fit." Wildcat inspected the cut at the corner of his hellcat's eye. 

"I just wanted to help, Unca Ted. I got the information, didn't I?" The girl twisted, not liking the stinging solution he put on the cut.

"And what if they had guessed you were a girl?" He stared hard at his twelve year old hellcat.

"I'd've torn some nuts off and screamed for my uncles!" she said with an irrepressible smile.

* * *

_Cliche Eight: Brainwashed_

The League had become her life, had been the only thing that had finally pulled her out of Gotham. Batman had been concerned for the woman, but as the League settled, so had she.

Then the League came up against an assassin, one that until that point had been the headache of the junior team, the Teen Titans. His modus operandi was unmistakable to Batman, but he was having difficulty with the al Ghul family. Putting Black Canary on the team to take Slade down had seemed like a good idea, to let her face the ghost of her past.

J'onn was off world, or he might have told Batman what a foolish mistake that was. 

It had started well, from what her teammates said. The tracking, every step to narrow down where Slade could hide had been handled most carefully. She used every bit of her knowledge that she had gleaned in those weeks as his…protégé, to handle it.

The robots Slade was so fond of tied down her two teammates, Vigilante and Shining Knight…and Black Canary had come face to face with the man she feared and loathed.

At this point, Vigilante had been able to see the pair most clearly. The pair of fighters had closed, pushing into an almost impossible level of fighting with one another. Slade had been on the brunt of losing the fight, when Vigilante heard him say something, just the flow of the man's voice without him being able to make it out. Black Canary had frozen, and let Slade go, making no effort to stop him. Vigilante and Shining Knight had broken free to pursue…and the woman had taken the ground out from under their feet with a short Cry.

Batman finished reading over the report, and looked into the room where Dinah sat staring blankly at the two-way glass. There was no doubt in Batman's mind that his longtime friend was no more at fault than any of them had been when the black diamond had taken them over.

He just wondered if freeing her of the conditioning would do anything to help the woman recover from this second victimizing by the assassin.

* * *

_Cliche Nine: Evil Twin_

He did not react immediately to her entry; after all, he had been sleeping with Black Canary on the sly for nearly a year.

He looked up with a smile for her, and let it linger. She was dressed, barely, in a bit of lace and nothing. He appraised her, the hair at the back of his neck standing on end, but neither his face nor his eye betrayed a hint of it as he walked over to her.

"Slade," she purred, her eyes failing to light with the smile she gave him. That was all the confirmation he needed, as he _moved_ , catching her wrist and jerking her arm up in a hold, behind her.

"You are no Canary," he growled, slamming her face first into the wall, his strength more than a match for her attempts to gain control.

"Bastard!"

"You picked the wrong one of her loved ones to hit, little vixen…"

"It's Black Kestrel…"

"And you are not welcome here," came the real Canary's voice. "Thanks, Slade. You just saved me a damn bit of work." She tossed him binders, and Slade quickly secured the woman. "How'd you know?"

"She's lacking your fire, your conviction…it's only on the outside that she comes near matching you," Slade told her. She rewarded him with a huge smile…and it lit her eyes with the warmth they shared.

* * *

_Cliche Ten: Trapped in an elevator_

He had planned it perfectly. A jamming device to block her gear, a small hack of the controls for the car she would have to take, a panel already loosened to allow him access…. He was taking no chances that he would fail to get to talk to her.

When it all moved into operation, Canary's cursing made him smile, which he had to push down before he dropped into the stalled elevator with her. She was trying to blister the paint off the doors, which gave him room enough to drop behind her and get his hands wrapped around her arms, leaving him only her legs to worry about for the moment. "Easy, sister..."

The petite fighter used those legs and a very odd twist to attempt to push him off, but he had strength and leverage at the moment.

"You son of a…" The rest of it was in alternating Thai and Vietnamese, but full of hatred.

"Sister," he growled, his voice... understanding, below the annoyance, "would you stop? I'm not here to fight you."

"Like I am supposed to believe you? After what you've done?!" Her rage was building the Cry in her voice, small area or not.

"You want to drop this on us, sister? Ease up. . You're the only person left on this planet that _might_ listen to me after what was done, little bird." His voice on that last was thick with something she probably thought he'd forgotten existed.

"Deathstroke, if it meant killing you for good, I'd damn sure do it," she growled.

His hands on her tightened just slightly as the name she _never_ used for him spat from her lips. "...Little bird," he said softly, voice wrapping over her pet name in a way she hadn't heard in a very long time, "I didn't think you had a death wish, certain moments not withstanding, and that was a damn good shot at my eye you took. Well done."

She froze, absolutely still, as the way he said it and mentioning that so proudly hit her. "Slade…I'm not playing your head games."

"No games, Dinah. My--" she could hear him swallow. "My word holds no weight these days, but on my wife's grave, I swear I'm not playing any games."

She closed her eyes, relaxed her body by force of will, and took a deep breath. "Let go of me then."

He let go of her and took a step back, giving her all the room she needed to strike at him if she wanted. She turned slowly, her eyes opening to regard him, trying to read him, and seeing lines of pain and haunting etched into his ageless face.

"Sit down, Slade." She kept her voice calm and clear, taking control of herself and the situation.

He gave her a long look and dropped down, folding his legs under him in a position that would allow her to see any move he might make more than in time to react to him, hands settling palms up and empty on his knees. "You look good, little bird."

"No flattery. It is only a matter of time before all your gimmicking of this car means nothing and someone is getting it moving again. So talk. And dammit, if you…if you are playing me…I will see you rotting in hell." She kept her gaze hard, her tone level, and her body language closed.

"I'm not playing you, sister." His single eye looked up at her. "I had done a favor for a mage a few years back, fairly large one. Once he got over the effects of the Spectre's rampage, he started paying attention to the rumors he was hearing about me, and tracked me down after--" he swallowed again, much as he tried not to, "--the attack on the... _my_ ," his voice was savage with hatred, "children."

She had to swallow now, to fight the urge to go to him. "Slade…I have to take you in. You can't just claim this to me…especially me…without me having it checked and verified, and put through proper routes. The League…I can't just accept this."

"I know you can't just take my word, little bird, not after--" his eye went hard again, "everything. But ask Raven what the spirits of Azarath were capable of, with a host they were incapable of burning out."

"I will, Slade. And I'll damn well scare up J'onn to help." Her words, her posture held out the slim hope he was not playing her, that this was real. "Start the car up, Slade."

He triggered the car into motion again, shifting to slowly stand, body telling her he was no threat.

Briefly, her gloved hand brushed his as she moved to stand beside him, before she folded them on front of her. Her face was composed, her bodylines telling him she was prepared to fight if she had to…but there was a quiet about her that reassured him she had truly listened.

For an equally brief moment, his hand settled at the small of her back, before he pulled it away again. "Thank you, my little bird," he said softly. "For listening, if nothing else."

She nodded, just before the car settled, and they could step out. Without making any kind of a fuss, she escorted him out of the building, and straight to the Hall, so that the League could judge this situation. She would only intervene to be sure fairness was applied to listening to his claims; it would be on him to win his freedom legally at that point.

* * *

_Cliche Eleven: Body-swapped_

Despite the latest handicap on Roy's life, there was no way in hell he was going to leave the hero business alone. He adapted, dropping to a lesser bow, learning how to punch and kick all over again. He wasn't the thing of beauty most people expected on seeing him, but he could be effective.

Effective, he learned all too bluntly, was not the same as good enough. He was face to face with the one Titan enemy/ally he hated more than just about anyone before he could even move.

"What's going on, sister?" Slade's voice held curiosity and concern as he gestured to the bow. "Taking after that boy of yours for some reason?"

//...what the?!// He stayed frozen, watching the man from blue eyes gone dark and dangerous, trying to imitate Dinah's speech pattern, "Needed to hit from a distance, and I don't like guns... so it made sense."

"Hmm." Slade looked bothered by that. "Guess it does make sense." He slid a hand into that lush blonde hair in complete familiarity and confidence he would not be rebuffed. "Got back from that run a few days early, Little Bird. Figured you wouldn't mind the company."

Roy somehow managed not to yank away from the touch, turning it into a mere shake of his head. "Sorry, Wilson, I'm a little too busy at the moment..." He couldn't even manage the English curses, his mind spitting Dine profanity in a rapid stream as he tried to figure out just how to get far enough away from this man to get to Dinah and figure out why the _hell_ one of his least favorite men thought he had _any_ right to touch her.

Slade paused, before nodding. "You know where I'll be, Little Bird." He leaned in and kissed her forehead, before moving off. "Take care of business…and be safe."

"Always, Wilson." He _somehow_ managed the shrug of a single shoulder Dinah threw his way so often, and turned to go back to his hunt, not trusting the son of a bitch not to follow, if-- //I _am not_ thinking that!// He was trying to keep his body language like hers as he moved, but gods, he was going to _kill_ her when he got his hands on her, no matter that she was in his damn body anyway. At least he'd warned _her_ about Dick!

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah was grumbling as she drug in…and found Roy had beat her home. He looked annoyed, something that still amused her more than anything, seeing his frown settle on her own features.

"Looks like your night was worse than mine, boy-o," she said in good humor.

"Oh, just a _little_ ," he growled--a very good growl despite that it was coming out of feminine vocal cords. "I spent half my damn night watching over my shoulder for Slade-fucking-Wilson. Something you want to tell me, Di?"

She went pale, staring at Roy. "But…but he wasn't supposed to be back until three nights from now, and Blood promised we'd switch back in two more nights!"

"...WHAT?!" the Cry rattled the windows, bookcases, and slammed into Dinah's chest.

She staggered back, glad for once of the solidity of this too big, too muscled form. "ROY!" She then looked very sheepish. "Wasn't going to tell you when wasn't supposed to be an issue, Boy-o."

"Sorry, Di... wow that feels wierd," Roy said sheepishly, blinking at her. "Well, it _is_ a problem, especially since he effing _kissed_ me... you... whatever!"

At that, she giggled. "Well, it's been nearly a whole damn month since he saw me!" Dinah walked over and sat down. "Just…we'll patrol together. He won't approach while you're with me. And in two nights, we get bounced back, and I go on with my life, and you go back to Dick."

"You... you..." Roy just _spluttered_ , shaking his head in dismay, blonde hair smacking him in the face when he did, making him shove it back roughly. "Di.. make this make sense? Please? 'Cause... I just... don't get it. You're not the-- How did you--?"

"How'd I fall for him?" She smiled obscurely, running a hand over shaggy red hair. "He and I got involved when he started running so many corporate contracts and stepping on my toes." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, Boy-o. I finally found an honest man."

" _Honest?!_ " Roy barely managed to keep his throat from doing that _thing_ that made her Cry work as he yowled at her. ""Honest"? Okay, at least he's never denied that he's a cold-blooded contract killer..."

She laughed in delight as she laid her head over on his lap, pulling too long legs up onto the couch, and wincing as she _forgot_ again about anatomical differences. She shifted and got more comfortable. "Honestly, Boy-o, it's the fact he treats me well, is trying to keep a much lower profile in his jobs so he can be around if his girl needs him, and … well, he made me smile like I hadn't since I was about twenty three. Just forget about it, and pretend it's not really happening."

"Be careful with that, would you?" Roy grumbled, running a hand over red hair automatically, muttering in frustrated Navajo about the entire situation. "I... how do I pretend that I don't know you're involved with one of the most dangerous men I _know_ , and one that's tried to _kill_ me more than once, slept with my _ex_ , loves playing headgames with my best friend and generally making the fringes of my life _way_ more damn complicated than I like?!"

"The fact he's calmed a whole hell of a lot of that down in the past six months?" she asked sweetly, eyes closing at being petted. "And yeah…told me about Chesh…I opted not to do more than work him over good in a spar."

"..." Roy growled again, shaking his head. "Well, Chesh did him enough damage, I guess I've got to admit, but they _loved_ throwing it in my face... Okay. She loved it." He paused a moment. "The last six months?" //Well, she was with Ollie for most of a decade, her flings generally last about... about three. Damn it Damn it Damn it."//

"Could be worse, Boy-o," she said in a voice that sounded too damn sexy for his vocal cords. "I could have taken R'as up on that bride thing."

"You did NOT just!!!!"

* * *

_Cliche Twelve: Amnesia_

"It's a League problem." The words had dripped out of her mouth before she could even think them through, but it was her honest opinion.

J'onn had let his rage, his anger with humanity boil up when a chance meeting with the severely demented Slade Wilson gave him the opportunity. Fortunately, when he had lashed into Slade's mind with the full power of his lost faith in humanity, he had met resistance of a very non-human sort.

There really had not been a contest, but it had stripped Slade of most of his memories, almost back to his teens. J'onn had apologized, but assured them it should be temporary.

"I'm not babysitting him." Roy had quickly thrown that out.

"I'll handle it." Dinah banged the gavel, signifying the end of the discussion before Bruce could cut her off. She rose and strode out to where the very confused man waited.

"Ma'am?" He jumped to his feet and stood there, very sure of himself despite the fact his head felt like he had a hang over.

"Come with me, Wilson." She sighed softly; J'onn's testimony had cleared Slade of all the horrors, but this still felt creepy.

"Yes ma'am."

//Thank god for Army respectfulness.// This was going to be a long recovery…and somehow she just knew she had bit off too much.

* * *

_Cliche Thirteen: Parallel Worlds_

Granted, the New Teen Titans had saved the world dozens of times, right under the noses of the Justice League. But when they interfered with the Anti-Monitor far before he was prepared, thanks to Raven's visions of the red skies, they felt very proud to have saved an entire multiverse of Earths, Tamarans, even a few Kryptons and Thanagars.

Until a very woeful Harbinger and Monitor informed them that they had gotten shunted out of their proper world stream and into one slightly parallel in spots, and at ninety degree angles in others. The team of friends, a family really, decided it was a small price to pay. Raven's magic had gotten them to be saviors; they were not going to complain when all of them had survived that she messed up the return address.

Going to their Tower led to the first rude awakening that it was a different world to live in. They had an honest to god chaperoning couple living in the Tower, a pair of adults. One of them was related to Jericho.

The other was Speedy's Dinah.

Keeping the redhead cool, as he watched Black Canary under Deathstroke's arm took every bit of control Troia and Nightwing both had.

Jericho just laughed silently, and wondered how it had happened.

* * *

_Cliche Fourteen: Suddenly not sexually attracted for usual partner_

She sighed ever so softly, and he caught it. He looked up over her flat stomach, looking displeased.

"Sorry."

"You can't just go from sex addict for men to…nothing."

"I told you, I woke up this morning dreaming of what my partner would be like laid out under my mouth…and absolutely no interest in you being in my bed."

The woman shrugged as she moved away from him. He growled, truly not happy.

"Your boy did this. I just have a feeling he went and paid a magic user to do this, to get you out of my bed."

"Roy would never do that. Fact remains, every thing you've tried is just not doing it…and I really don't even want to try to…" She waved a hand at him, and he sighed.

"Still friends?"

"Always, Slade." She smiled, all dimples, as the situation finally struck her funny bone. "Too bad it didn't affect you…Dick would have been the happiest young man on the Titans."

Even he had to laugh at that, while vowing to find out WHO had done this to his little bird.


End file.
